Sacrificium
by Audra Lachesis
Summary: Voldemort has infiltrated Hogwarts. The professors are gone, leaving the students to fend for themselves. As they try to evacuate, the Death Eaters overrun the school -- and Harry Potter finally comes face to face with Lord Voldemort. R/R please!


Sacrificium 

Audra Lachesis

spazzula@yahoo.com

*****

A/N: My take on how the final battle will go. I've got this so firmly fixed in my mind that I can't picture anything else -- at least until JKR writes the _real thing for me, ^_^_

I don't own any of this. The incomparable JK Rowling does.

*****

Amidst the chaos in the Great Hall, Harry Potter found himself completely alone.

Younger students swirled around him, frantically searching for friends amongst the throng, but Harry stood alone. The chaos seemed to part in front of him, leaving him standing in a small pocket of inactivity; no one entered that sacred space, perhaps out of fear of the expression that now flashed in the too-green eyes of the Boy Who Lived.

To one side of the Great Hall, Hermione, Head Girl through and through made a Herculean effort to calm students and evacuate them to the dungeons. The few student that listened to her ducked through a set of doors generally reserved for professors only, but the general sense of panic continued unabated. Ron tried to help his girlfriend calm the younger students, but they were having none of it -- they were well on their way to complete hysterics.

He Who Must Not Be Named was at Hogwarts. He had somehow -- somehow! -- broken through the layers of wards and protective barriers, and was bearing down on the school in a malevolent wave. Hogsmeade was already under attack; how long before the castle was besieged? How long before You-Know-Who himself set foot inside the hallowed classrooms once more?

Harry gritted his teeth. He had his suspicions about how Voldemort had managed to gain access to Hogwarts, but Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Just the thought of the Slytherin made Harry want to spit, to clear the bile out of his throat, but he swallowed with difficulty and forced himself to take stock of the situation once more.

Most of the professors had fallen for Voldemort's trap, and were out trying to defend Hogsmeade. They were so confident that Hogwarts was safe that they had left it virtually unprotected. Now that Death Eaters roamed the halls, there were barely a handful of professors to rally the students in a meager defence. They had gathered in the Great Hall, but even that was no longer safe. They had to go deeper into the castle, Professor Sprout claimed, and try to hold off the Death Eaters there.

Hermione finally succeeded in organizing a handful of First Years, and now had a steady stream of weeping students ducking out of the Great Hall. The older students had decided to help, and went about their tasks with grim expressions. They knew what Voldemort could do to the school. Many of them had been there for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, for the attacks on their families and friends, and a sick dread filled every student at the thought of the Death Eaters in the halls of Hogwarts.

The evacuation proceeded smoothly until only the older students were left. Seventh and Sixth Years, with a few Fifth Years tossed in, glanced around to make sure their younger classmates had already been safely smuggled into the depths of the castle.

And the cold came.

It wasn't necessarily a change in the physical temperature of the Hall, but every remaining student shifted uneasily as the hairs stood up on the backs of their necks. A collective shiver raced through the room, and Hermione moaned in sudden horror. Before anyone could move, the huge, solid doors of the Great Hall were blown inwards, scattering shards of wood in every direction.

"Everyone out, now!" Ron screamed, grabbing a Fifth Year girl by the back of her robes and shoving her bodily toward the door to the dungeons. There was a mad scramble for the exit, girls and boys alike shouting in abject terror. The clusters of students wavered and broke as the heavily cloaked Death Eaters began to stream into the Great Hall.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry darted forward almost as one. They ducked through the fleeing crowd, occasionally pushing a classmate toward the doors, as the three of them struggled to get in between the students and their attackers. Curses were flying through the air, and several students had paused to fight back, desperately hoping to give their classmates a chance to escape. The trio joined the impromptu defence force, firing curses with deadly accuracy.

A hoarse cry from Harry's left distracted him momentarily. He glanced aside and almost dropped his wand; Ron was clutching a gash in his right arm, his robes already sticky with blood. Hermione shoved him impatiently to one side, sparing a moment to cast a hasty blood-clotting charm on Ron's arm. The taller boy shot her a shaky grin before viciously hexing the Death Eater that had attacked him.

"Watch that side, you're letting your guard down!" Hermione yelled.

"I'll try to remember that," Ron growled back, teeth bared in a snarl as he sent off three curses in quick succession. "You just take care of yourself -- I'll not be bailing you out of trouble like we did first year!"

Harry fought down the insane urge to laugh. Of all the times for Ron and Hermione to be bickering, this had to be the worst. Ron's tongue-in-cheek reference to their tussle with a mountain troll in first year only made it more laughable; they were undoubtedly facing something a LOT worse than a mere mountain troll now.

Another Death Eater got too close, and Harry took the opportunity to lash out with his fists. He used his wand on the less accessible enemies, but with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, any attacker that got too close to him inevitably wished he'd faced the curses instead. Harry was no longer the skinny, short boy that had come to Hogwarts seven years ago; he had grown enough to put some power behind his blows, and more than one Death Eater fell back with a bloody nose or split lip. As he struck the new attacker twice in the face, Harry saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

_Ginny, he thought grimly. No one else had hair that color, except Ron, and he was on Harry's other side. __I thought I told her to stay out of this? Harry fought back the urge to scream. The daft girl was insisting on getting herself hurt, all because of that ludicrous grudge she held against Voldemort -- or rather, Tom Riddle. __I should have carried her down to the dungeons myself, Harry thought grimly. __If she gets herself killed…_

Harry shoved the thought out of his mind. He would NOT think of Ginny right now. Not when there were Death Eaters everywhere, trying everything in their power to claim the head of the Boy Who Lived to take to their master. He would NOT think of her laughing at him as he tried to tell her to hide in the dungeons, or the way her eyes flashed when the news arrived about Voldemort's approach, or the fact that he couldn't seem to get within ten feet of her without wanting to be sick from the butterflies in his stomach…

He caught sight of her then; Ginny was standing back to back with Colin Creevey, using her extensive knowledge of hexes on every Death Eater in reach. Being the only girl in a house of six brothers had made her learn some inventive ways of defending herself, and she seemed to be holding her own. Despite the twisting in his stomach at the sight of her, Harry forced himself to relax.

An agonized shriek made him whirl back toward Ron and Hermione, but they were no longer right beside him. Horrified, Harry realized that the three of them had been separated -- and a suspiciously familiar form in black robes had a wand trained on Hermione. She writhed pitifully on the ground, apparently locked within the tortuous grasp of the Cruciatus curse. The Death Eater laughed, and Harry tensed; it had to be Lucius Malfoy.

Before Harry could take a step, Ron launched himself out of nowhere, crashing into the elder Malfoy with a snarl of pure rage. Hermione went limp, and Ron proceeded to pummel Lucius prone form with all his strength. The Death Eater recovered quickly, however, and Ron was sent flying backward to crash into the wall and land in a crumpled heap next to his girlfriend.

Lucius chuckled nastily and stepped forward, obviously intent on finished what he had started, but he stopped rather suddenly. His head jerked back to stare at the demolished entrance to the Great Hall, where a tall, heavily robed figure now stood.

Somewhere far away, Harry felt his breathing slow and his heartbeat pound erratically in his ears.

Lord Voldemort had come.

*****

"Harry Potter…"

Voldemort seemed to be relishing the taste of the name, his voice hissing softly from the depths of his hood. His slitted eyes were clearly visible, glowing a malevolent red, but the rest of his serpentine features were buried in shadow.

Distantly, Harry noticed that most activity in the Great Hall had ground to a sudden halt. Death Eaters stepped back to bow deeply to their master, and the beleaguered students gasped for breath and tried to ignore their various injuries. Harry noted all of this absently; his attention was fully riveted on the Dark Lord.

"Voldemort," he said steadily, his voice cold as steel. "You're not welcome here."

The cloaked figure laughed harshly. "Welcome? Whoever suggested I needed a welcome, dear boy? I don't wait for invitations -- surely you know that by now."

Harry leveled his wand at Voldemort, his hand perfectly steady. "You are not welcome here," he repeated, speaking slowly and clearly. "Go back before I decide to do something about it."

"Do something, will you? What will it be, young Harry? Will you set Dumbledore's precious phoenix on me? Force our wands to connect once more? Going to try to burn me with your hands, Harry? You know that won't work anymore. Or will you simple lie there, immobile, while I kill your friends? Just like that night in the graveyard… three years ago…"

A brilliant blast of white-hot light burst from Harry's wand at the reminder o Cedric Diggory, but Voldemort brushed it aside negligently. "Who shall I start with, Harry? The young woman over there with all the brown hair? I've heard she's rather clever, but nothing blocks a Killing Curse. Or your red-haired mate beside her? I don't play chess, I'm afraid, it takes too long. I'm sure I can find some other way to entertain him."

"If you touch either of them, I'll kill you myself."

Voldemort turned toward the voice, and found himself looking straight into the blazing eyes of Ginny Weasley. "Ah yesss…" he hissed happily. "I remember _you. Lucius tells me you were the one that took such good care of my diary. Sweet girl, good girl, how would you like to be the first to go?"_

Ginny spat out a remark that would have made her mother faint, telling He Who Must Not Be Named exactly what to do with his wand.

Voldemort laughed delightedly. "Oh, I like you! Perhaps I'll keep you. You behaved so nicely for me once, after all, and I can certainly bring you in line again. After all, Tom was a mere memory of my former self. You would like to see what I can do to you, wouldn't you, dear girl?"

Harry growled. "You're not here for her, Voldemort. You're here for me. Either state your business or leave."

Voldemort waved a hand negligently. "You've already said it, Potter -- I'm here for you. You've escaped me too many times, boy. I mean to finish you once and for all. What good is power if there is the constant reminder of one little failure?"

"In the form of a year old infant? That's a pretty pathetic failure, I'd say," Harry taunted. "I'm not an infant anymore, Voldemort. And I bite back."

He threw a curse without warning, expecting Voldemort to defend himself with his own wand. If he could get the two brother wands to connect, her could hold on long enough to get the others out of the Great Hall…

But the wands didn't connect. Voldemort smoothly deflected the curse and fired one of his own -- a Cruciatus curse that hit Harry solidly in the stomach.

Harry doubled over, crying out in a hoarse, broken voice. The pain was intense, like thousands of razor blades slicing into his skin, peeling back his nerves and jolting straight to his pain receptors. It seemed to go on forever, and Harry was only distantly aware of Voldemort's voice.

"You expected our wands to connect, didn't you, Harry? Pity this isn't my wand. It's Wormtail's -- I took it off his body after that accursed godfather of yours killed him. Wormtail was useless to me, but his wand has served me rather well, I think. I believe I'll give his wand the honor of killing you, after all."

The pain ceased abruptly, and Harry moaned. He struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, to face whatever Voldemort threw at him standing up, but firm hands held him down. Blearily, Harry opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into the concerned brown eyes of Ginny Weasley.

"Harry?" she whispered, biting her lip.

"Move, girl," Voldemort said testily. "You won't save him now, you'll only sentence yourself to share his fate."

Ginny stroked Harry's back comfortingly, smoothing back his hair and wiping perspiration from his forehead. She steadfastly ignored Voldemort, and focused entirely on soothing Harry.

"I told you to stand aside," Voldemort snarled, losing patience. "If you won't oblige, I'll move you myself."

Ginny's head jerked up at this, and she glared coldly at Voldemort. "I will not leave him. I will not move. I will not take orders from you -- ever -- again!"

She fired a stunning spell of her own, but Voldemort sidestepped it easily. "Well, now -- doesn't this look familiar?" he murmured, his voice smooth and satisfied once more. 

_"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please --"_

Ginny stood her ground. "No. Not Harry." Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but firm.

_"Not Harry, please no, take me --"_

Voldemort laughed, delighted, and advanced another step.

_"Stand aside, you silly girl…"_

"Isn't this just a picture?" Voldemort purred. "You _do resemble her, you know, in a way. The same color hair, the same desperate look in your eyes. She died for him, you know, and you will, too."_

_"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"_

Ginny lifted her chin slightly. "Not Harry. Please. Kill me instead, but not Harry."

On the floor behind her, Harry finally managed to lift his head, and was transfixed. It was as if a scene out of his own head were suddenly superimposed over the sight before him. Another young woman, with dark red hair and pleading green eyes, stood beside Ginny in his mind's eye. He knew his mother was not really there. But the situation was uncanny, and eerily familiar.

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --"_

Ginny reached back to wind her fingers tightly with Harry's, and he tried desperately to tell her to move, to get out of the way. His voice would not cooperate, and he began to panic. He was going to lose Ginny, just like he lost his mother.

"She didn't have to die," Voldemort murmured. "She sacrificed herself for her son, just as you are prepared to sacrifice yourself for the same young man. But it won't work a second time -- it won't save him again."

"Ginny --" Harry rasped hoarsely. "Ginny -- no --"

"I wonder how badly it will shatter him, to watch you die -- just like his own mother did sixteen years ago." Voldemort raised his wand, and his eyes glittered maliciously.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

The world exploded in a flash of green light, as Voldemort screamed the words of the Killing Curse.

Harry felt his world collapse, and he lunged forward, wrapping an arm around Ginny's shoulders and chest and pulling her back against him. He was shouting something, but had no idea what words he spoke. The green light flared, and without thinking, Harry threw out his right arm -- the same arm Wormtail had pierced three years ago to draw his blood and resurrect the Dark Lord -- in a futile attempt to shield Ginny and himself from the curse. 

Something erupted from deep inside. The green glow faltered under a sudden outpouring of pure white light, which surrounded Harry and Ginny. The light grew brighter and brighter, forcing back the sickly green of _Avada Kedavra,_

And miraculously, the curse rebounded.

Voldemort shrieked in horror as his own curse hit him full force. The hood of his cloak slipped backwards, revealing his face, twisted in agony, as he struggled to hold on to life. Someone had once claimed that there wasn't enough human left in him to die…

The white light radiating from Harry expanded, enveloping Death Eaters and Dark Lord alike. Terrified screams rang out, but no one could open their eyes without being blinded by the brilliance of the light. 

And slowly, slowly, it began to fade. All across the Great Hall, Death Eaters lay spread eagled on the floor, eyes open in astonishment at the force of their destruction. What remained of Voldemort was in a smouldering pile in the center of the Hall.

Harry Potter lay in a crumpled heap, pale and motionless in the arms of a tearful Ginny Weasley.

*****

He woke up five days later in the Hospital Wing.

The room was filled to bursting, mostly with Weasleys, if the abundance of red hair was any indication. Without his glasses, Harry could only make out blurred shapes, and with his head pounding constantly, he found it even harder to focus.

Two shapes separated themselves from the throng, one red and the other brown. Ron and Hermione, Harry reminded himself as he struggled to focus on them.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, almost sobbing with relief. She threw her arms around his shoulders, causing him to grunt with pain. Embarrassed, Hermione pulled back, shoving her own hair back self-consciously. "Sorry -- sorry. I'm just so glad you're awake!"

"Gave us a scare there, mate," Ron told him. "You've been sleeping like a baby for days now, we were starting to wonder when you'd get hungry and wake up."

"Ginny?" Harry croaked, forcing his vocal cords to function.

"She's just fine," Ron assured him. "You took the brunt of that curse yourself. Damned if we can figure out how you did it, but not only did you shield Ginny, you blocked a Killing Curse -- _again."_

"You and Hermione -- all right?"

"Yup, we're fine as well. Madame Pomfrey treated me for broken ribs and a concussion, but honestly, I think she just wanted to pour some foul potion down my throat. Be glad you've been asleep for the past five days, or she'd have tried to feed them to you, as well."

Harry sighed and settled back against the pillow, letting the babble of voices wash over him. He could hear Mrs. Weasley fussing over him in the background. Percy was scolding the twins for some new transgression -- something about a toilet seat -- and Harry could just make out the voices of Bill and Charlie, on the other side of the room, talking to their father.  Further inspection of the black lump at the foot of Harry's bed yielded an exhausted Sirius, in his Padfoot form; he had apparently been about to collapse when Dumbledore brought him to the Hospital Wing, but he refused to leave Harry for a moment, and therefore lay oblivious at his godson's feet.

Harry continued to scan the room through slitted eyes, searching for one person in particular. Ron and Hermione shifted to check on something trivial, and he saw her. Ginny was sitting in a chair not five feet from his bedside, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep and her russet hair limp from inattention -- but she was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

He met her eyes for a long moment before managing a tiny, exhausted smile. Ginny's eyes filled with relieved tears, and she grinned brilliantly back at him. Oblivious to the bustle around her, Ginny leaned over and kissed Harry softly on the cheek. His eyes widened at the gesture, and she pulled back slightly, her lips still very close to his ear so that he was the only one who could catch her words:

"Welcome back, Harry…"

  
*****

END

(Please read and review! ~A)


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